


Good People

by Soap_Lady



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7116079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soap_Lady/pseuds/Soap_Lady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We finally see where Cutter "scraped up" Doug Eiffel. Trigger warnings for prison setting, mentions of past assault attempts and self-harm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good People

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Well, I wasn't content to waste the time of everyone in the Our Fair City fandom, so I decided to write a little story for the Wolf 359 crowd.
> 
> It's a bit dark so feel free to skip this if that isn't your thing.

                                                                                                                    **Good People**

 

 

_**Trigger warnings for prison setting, mentions of past attempted assaults and self-harm.** _

 

The visitor followed the surly guard down the grey hallway. The bright fluorescent lighting did nothing to brighten the place up but it did make the man’s destination easy to spot. He whistled as he walked and the older guard seemed to take his cheerful attitude personally. That or the rough polyester uniform he wore chafed.

“I don’t know who you know, Mister, but this isn’t exactly normal procedure.” “The guard unlocked the door. “He’s been in solitary for sixth months now. Keeps getting into fights. Probably does it on purpose.” The elder man smirked. “I don’t blame him. He’s a cute kid. Pretty boys are in short supply around here.” The guard stepped away from the door. “He’s been handcuffed to the bed for your protection. You got ten minutes. No more.”

The younger man sighed dramatically and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. “You’ve been ever so helpful, Gary. Glad to see working twenty years as a prison guard hasn’t dimmed your sunny disposition.” He wrapped the handkerchief around the door handle and pulled it open.

“Gary” snorted and stepped back. “You’ll get along great with the kid. He’s a wiseass too.”

  
                                                                                     ******

He heard the door open and did his best not to react. Prisoners in solitary didn’t have visitors besides the occasional prison official or public defender. His lawyer had given up in disgust halfway through his trial so it couldn’t be her. He thought he’d heard one of the guards, the fat old guy, outside. He was preferable to the young cocky guy, even if he was too old to get a lot of pop culture references. The younger guard was always referring to his “purty mouth.”

The door shut with a loud clang. He forced himself not to react when he heard it being locked from the outside and the approaching footsteps. Great. What fresh hell was he in for today?

“Hi! Anyone alive in there?”

The annoyingly cheerful voice forced his head up and he looked into the face of a man roughly his own age, maybe younger. The man’s hair was stylishly but conservatively cut and the suit he wore cost as much as an economy car. His face was open and friendly but his eyes were as piercingly precise as a scalpel.

_My new best friend. I hate him already._

“Doug!” the man called out cheerfully. He looked around as if looking for a chair and then sighed and brought out a small notebook.” It _is_  Doug, right?” He flipped through the pages and then looked back at Doug. “Douglas Ferdinand Eiffel, right? Prison ID number seven-three-zero-zero-one? Ferdinand, huh? Wow. I can’t imagine the playground teasing you got with that.”

The other man laughed and Doug decided to ignore him. He was staring at an expanding water stain on the opposite wall and it was beginning to look like a naked woman. That or a bunny. Either or.

Undeterred, his visitor continued. “Well…maybe I should introduce myself.” He began to lean against the wall but stopped when he noticed how dirty it was. “I’m Mister Cutter and I work for Goddard Futuristics. You can call me…Mister Cutter.”

Mister Cutter began to pace the small cell and Doug Eiffel did his best to keep his face neutral. This guy was an annoying little ray of sunshine. He hoped a meteor fell on him.

“I’ve read you file, Dougie-boy,” the visitor smiled when he realized he finally had the prisoner’s attention. “And before you ask, yes, the whole file. Joined the military…worked as a security guard…Pizza Hut…a plethora of technical skills…very good with technology…yadda yadda…anyway, it’s that tech savvy that brings me here today.” Mister Cutter crouched down and looked Eiffel in the eyes. “How would you…like to go to space?”

Doug frowned and looked away. Mister Cutter looked smug.

“Oh, come on…” Cutter’s tone became both cajoling and condescending. “Isn’t it every little boy’s or girl’s dream to go into space? Explore the galaxy? To boldly go…how’s the rest? Where no man…or no one has gone before? I forget. You probably know, Dougie. I hear you’re quite the fountain of memes.”

Eiffel refused to respond and the smile slid off Cutter’s face as he stood up.

“All right, Doug, if that’s how you want to be,” Cutter began to pace again and Eiffel was reminded of a tiger shark he’d seen on television once; sleek, patient, and predatory. He tried not to shiver.

Mister Cutter’s voice went from affable to frigid. “Fine. We don’t have to be friends. Goddard Futuristics is planning on launching the first deep space mission to monitor a red star named Wolf three five nine. We need a communications officer and…current circumstances aside, Dougie, you’d be perfect.”

Doug Eiffel finally met his eyes and Cutter knew he had piqued his curiosity. “I talked to one of your former commanding officers. Do you remember Major Emory? Ah, I see from your face you do. ‘Eiffel’s a lazy son of a bitch, but if you give him a piece of broken equipment, especially radio equipment, he can not only fix the piece of shit, he can improve its efficiency.’” Cutter faked a laugh. “Colorful…but, accurate, wouldn’t you say?”

Eiffel went back to ignoring him and Cutter grit his teeth. This insubordinate little…but that was unimportant. Doug Eiffel was perfect for what he had in mind. Cutter approached the bed and surprised the hell out of the other man by spreading the handkerchief over the thin sheet and sitting down. He turned towards the prisoner.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, Doug,” Cutter told him. “You know what? No more pleasantries, no more games. How would you like to be out of here before you’re old enough to join the AARP?”

Doug’s eyes widened and Cutter laughed again, pleased to finally have the other man’s full attention. “Oh, I don’t mean a full pardon or even parole. Goddard doesn’t have that kind of influence…yet. No, Doug,” Cutter put on his best sincere face. “I’m talking about commuting your sentence. Come work for me and I’ll put you on a five hundred day rotation on the Hephaestus. That’s our space station by the way. You’ll be our communications officer, keeping the crew in touch with Earth and scanning the cosmos for intelligent life. Then after that, depending on your results, we’ll either terminate your contract, or, you’ll come home a free man.”

Doug did not like the sound of the word “terminate.” “Gee, wow. Free you say? Thank you, Fairy Godfather Cutter. Where do I sign?”

It was the first time the prisoner had spoken and Cutter decided he wished the twit had kept his mouth shut. He leaned a little closer to Eiffel and was pleased to see the other man flinch away as if he had attacked the prisoner.

“There are millions of people who’d love to be in your place and you’re acting rather ungrateful for a felon,” Cutter let the congenial mask fall completely and Eiffel gulped. “You’re getting a second chance, Doug. A chance to make up for all the horrible, horrible mistakes you’ve made. Give your family someone they can be proud of again, not a criminal who kidnapped a child, probably planning to-”

“Hey! You weren’t there you sanctimonious little…” Doug jerked forward, only to be stopped by the handcuffs. He shook his head to dismiss the memory of trying to explain what he’d done to his family, the screech of tires as he lost control of his car. He wasn’t sure how close the guard was but he was certain the guy could be in the cell with a taser before he could strangle the weasel in Westwood. He sat back and calmed down. “I didn’t…mean to…I was trying…” he cut off and looked into Cutter’s smug, triumphant face. What was this corporate rodent getting out of trying to recruit him? Control, most likely. He might even think it would be funny to send a felon with a bunch of astronauts and not tell them who he really was.

Doug looked away from Cutter. He’d tried not to dwell on…what he’d done. He tried not to feel anything. Yet here was this guy in a nice suit, offering him freedom on a string. There had to be a catch, something Cutter wasn’t saying. However, the possibility of getting out, of redemption…

Damn it was tempting.

Cutter glanced at his rather expensive wristwatch. He had less than a minute left. “Allow me to sweeten the deal, Dougie. Come work for Goddard Futuristics under my supervision and after your assuredly successful mission, I’ll see to it your criminal record is expunged. You’ll come back to Earth a hero and have a clean slate.” He heard the guard unlocking the door and stood up. “Think about it, Doug. I’ll be in touch.” He gave the jagged vertical scar on Eiffel’s wrist a pointed stare. “Then again, maybe next time you’ll be successful. Practice makes perfect, as they say.”

  
                                                                                                                                        *****

  
After arriving back at his Porsche, he called Rachel. “Hello, my dearest, most useful employee. Yeah, Eiffel’s on board. No, he hasn’t signed a contract yet but he will. Tell…what is he calling himself now? Alexander Hilbert? Tell Doctor Hilbert ‘Decima is go again.’ Okay, I love you, bye-bye!”

                                                                                                                                        *****

 

  
“ _ **You’re not a good person. You know that, right? Good people don’t end up here**_.” - GLaDos, “Portal”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very very sorry.


End file.
